Forget About Tomorrow
by FancifulRivers
Summary: Anything has to be better than the Dursleys. Harry's about to find out whether "anything" also extends to Professor Snape.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I do not and never will own HP.**

 **So "Better Than the Dursleys" kind of won't leave my head. So here, have a multi-chapter nobody asked for! :P**

 **Overall warning for child abuse, child neglect, some self harm mentions, and suicidal ideation.**

He was a small boy- unnaturally small for his age, perhaps, but he looked smaller now, curled up in a window ledge behind a protective fall of curtain. His robes were too big for him, and that didn't help, either. Shabby trainers poked out from the hem, tied on with double-knotted ratty laces.

It was bright outside, he could see, nose pressed to the window. The sun was a warm lemon, the clouds were like wispy puffs of white candy floss, and he could hear shouts filtered through the castle walls, of all the students below, running around and splashing in the shallows of the lake.

It was a beautiful day, but it wasn't for Harry Potter, because tomorrow was the first day of summer holidays, and that meant the Dursleys.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful, he hastened to reassure even himself. He wasn't- or at least, he didn't mean to be. He knew they didn't have to take him in. They were very kind. They told him that themselves. They could have dropped him off at an orphanage or just left him in a parking lot to throw his lot in with the street kids or strangers or the police (but he wasn't ever supposed to talk to the police). He thought maybe they were considering it a time or two, but those were mean thoughts. Ungrateful thoughts. So he pushed them away.

And it wasn't that they were _bad_ to him. Not _really_. So his bedroom for most of his life was the cupboard under the stairs. So he'd been brought up, learning to do the chores almost before he could walk properly. He was just earning his keep. Paying his dues to the family that had him foisted off on them, left in nothing but a basket and a blanket. He wasn't worth anything but what he could do for them. He was used to it.

Except then Hagrid showed up, with a slightly squashed birthday cake and a letter that made Harry feel like he was filled with golden bubbles, sparkling and fizzing until his smile was too big for his face. Except then he found out his parents didn't die in a drunken pile-up. His "freakiness" had a name. He wasn't alone.

But he was alone, in the end, wasn't he? He sighed, sitting back from the window so he could use the sleeve of his robes to wipe his face. He had asked the Headmaster if he could stay at Hogwarts. _Pleaded_ with him. _Begged_ him.

Dumbledore said no. Family was important, Dumbledore said. He'd understand when he was older, Dumbledore said. It was safer to stay with the Dursleys. Safer. Harry snorted now, wiping his nose on his robes. He was crying again and hadn't even noticed.

 _When they aren't pretending I don't exist, you mean?_ He had wanted to shout at the man. His hands trembled in reactionary after shocks. _When I don't have to eat scraps out of the rubbish bin and fill myself up with the tap? When I get a chore list as long as my arm and more added besides if I don't finish? How is that_ safer?

But he'd said nothing. Just muttered a stiff "thanks for your time" and exited before the tears could scald his cheeks and embarrass him even more. Hogwarts was supposed to be a refuge. His sanctuary.

How could it be when it had an expiration date?

It wasn't _fair_.

Lost in his own misery, Harry curled up over himself, letting the tears still trickle down his face, soaking his collar. He knew he should get up, make himself presentable, finish packing and pretend to Ron and Hermione that his summer would be just as normal as theirs.

He did nothing until the curtain twitched aside and the rather formidable figure of his Potions professor filled the gap.


	2. Chapter 2

"Potter?"

His surname was said in tones of sneering disbelief, and Harry jerked back before he could stop the flinch, smacking his head against the window.

"S-sir?" he stammered out, heart hammering against his ribs. Professor Snape looked down at him with glinting dark eyes, face drawn in heavy lines of reproach.

"Why are you not packing in your dormitory?" the man asked, not remarking on the tears still streaking his face. Harry had little hope it was because Snape was being tactful. The git was _never_ tactful.

"I'm er, almost done, sir," Harry replied. "Just uh- wanted a break."

"Right." Snape lifted one eyebrow in disdain. "If that's all, _Potter,_ I suggest you complete your...break. And go to the Hospital Wing."

"Sir?" Harry asked in confusion. Snape's sneer grew.

"The knock on your head you just received must have been enough to penetrate even your thick skull, Potter," Snape replied. "You've spent enough time in the Hospital Wing, you know the way."

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled, cheeks flushing bright red. He didn't know what prompted the next statement- perhaps it was the look, fleeting as it was, of concern over his head injury- but he blurted it out anyway.

"Professor, is there any way I can stay at Hogwarts?"

Snape stopped in his tracks.

"And why would you want to stay here?" Snape asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Perhaps your concussion is more severe than I presumed-"

"Can you look in people's minds?" Harry spluttered out. "H-Hermione said that's possible, um, I can't remember what it's called, Leg something, and that you can see people's memories and you can't lie when someone looks in your head, _please_ , sir-"

"It's called Legilimency, Potter," Snape hissed. "And it's highly frowned upon to perform on students, particularly without permission."

"Then I give you permission!" Harry nearly shouted. He didn't know why this had suddenly become so important. His heartbeat seemed to treble in his ears, and he was shaking so hard his shoes kept knocking against the wall. "P-please, the Headmaster won't _listen_ -"

Snape looked at him.

"I have no idea why I'm entertaining the puerile wants of a pre-pubescent boy, save for the fact that I've no doubt I will find enough evidence in your mind to have you expelled..." Snape said slowly.

"D-don't do that," Harry stuttered, suddenly afraid. If he was expelled, then he would _have_ to stay with the Dursleys, and they would _hate_ him for that, he knew that more surely than he knew his own name. "Look, c-can you look at my um, my family life?" He nearly choked uttering the word 'family.' As if the Dursleys would ever want to be associated with him.

"Why, Potter, do you want me to see how much your aunt and uncle coddle you?" Snape sneered. Harry's shoulders slumped as he shook his head.

"No, sir, never mind," he whispered. "I'll just, um, go back to my dorm-"

Snape's hand fell heavily on his shoulder.

"No, Potter," his Potions professor informed him, still sneering. "You implored me to look into your mind. How could I refuse the Boy Who Lived?"

Snape's wand was suddenly pointed right between his eyes.

" _Legilimens_!"

Harry felt like he'd been propelled through a whirlwind of his worst memories. In less than five minutes, he was left coughing and spluttering against the window. When he looked up, Snape was paler than he'd ever seen the man, and his eyes were doing that flinty, crackly thing they did when he was _really_ angry.

"Sir?" Harry whispered. Snape looked down at him, nostrils flaring.

"Up," the man ordered, a hand under his elbow, propelling him to his feet. "We're going to the Headmaster."

"But Professor," Harry protested, even as he was rather abruptly dragged down the corridor. "I just came from there, he said I had to go home-"

Snape laughed bitterly.

"And what home, pray tell, was he referring to?" Snape asked. Harry had no answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: And this is the last of my pre-written chapters, welcome to Update Hell after this. :P**

"Albus, he's not going back there," Snape told the Headmaster without preamble, striding into the office like he belonged there. He still had Harry firmly by the elbow.

"Severus, what-" Dumbledore looked between the two of them in utter confusion. He was plainly bewildered, and it was almost funny to Harry, because he felt much the same way.

"The Dursleys," Snape bit out. "He's not going back to them."

"Severus, there are reasons that he must," Dumbledore said, giving Harry a rather significant frown. Harry gulped, feeling his heart sink to his shoes.

"Albus, he would be better brought up in a rubbish bin," Snape sneered. "A flobberworm would be a better guardian. He is overworked, neglected, starved, and his cousin goes in for a little sport called- oh yes, what was it- _Harry Hunting_."

Harry peeked up at Dumbledore to see the man had gone nearly grey with shock, mouth hanging slack.

"Severus, I had no idea," Albus tried to say, but Snape rolled over him anyway.

"If Lily knew, she would be rolling in her grave," Snape hissed. Harry looked at the man with interest. Snape knew his mum? "He is not going back there, and that is _final_."

"Then where will he go?" Dumbledore asked. Snape blinked.

"There are blood wards on the Dursleys' property," the Headmaster informed them both. "To keep Harry safe from Voldemort's followers."

"Hogwarts is teeming with wards, how could they not be sufficient?" Snape drawled. "Did you even _ask_ why the boy wanted to stay here?"

"...No," Dumbledore admitted. To Harry's shock, he looked ashamed of himself. "I presumed he simply wished to stay in the magical world. I'm sorry, Harry. I should have looked into it."

"The boy can stay with me," Snape said, looking as surprised as Harry felt.

"Are you sure?" Albus peered over his spectacles at the Potions professor. "You have been- harsh with the boy this year, Severus, and you are not used to children-"

"How hard can one eleven year old be, even if he _is_ the Boy Who Lived?" Snape snapped. "He can take the train tomorrow to say goodbye to his cohorts, and then he will be spending the rest of the summer with me."

"Shall we make it official?" the Headmaster asked. "I can draw up guardianship papers for you, Severus. I have contacts in the Ministry who can ensure they are uncontested."

"Please," Snape said, nodding stiffly. "Come, Potter. You're going to the Hospital Wing."

"Why, sir?" Harry blurted, forehead creased in confusion. Snape looked down at him and almost visibly rolled his eyes.

"Your _head_ , Potter, if you recall, the window decided to attack the back of it."

"Oh." Harry flushed, suddenly feeling very small.

"If you can have those guardianship papers drawn up as quickly as possible, I would appreciate it," Snape said over his shoulder as he guided Harry out the door.

"Of course, Severus," the reply came floating back. "And- thank you."

Without further ado, Harry was propelled down the narrow, winding staircase and all the way into the Hospital Wing.

Harry hopped up onto a bed, letting his feet dangle off the edge, while Snape went in search of Madam Pomfrey. He didn't really know how he felt now. Or what to think. Snape _hated_ him, didn't he? But he'd sounded outraged in the Headmaster's office, particularly over Harry Hunting. He couldn't understand it. Why couldn't the Weasleys take him in? He'd wanted to ask that, but his throat had closed up and he couldn't, especially not when Snape had just asked for guardianship papers of all things.

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, carrying on something urgent with Snape, but Harry couldn't quite hear what it was. From the frequent glances over at him, however, he bet he was the subject. He scowled. He _hated_ people talking about him.

"Professor Snape says that you hit your head," Poppy said when she finally walked over. Harry nodded slowly. It didn't hurt that much anymore, and he told her so.

"That's good, but I'm still going to check," she said pleasantly, her wand firmly held in one hand. He sighed.

"You don't have a concussion, so there's that," she said, once the diagnostic scan had finished. "Severus asked me to run a few other tests-"

"Like what?" Harry asked truculently.

"Mind your tone, Mister Potter," Poppy warned him. "Your general state of health and well-being, for one. You're malnourished."

"Am not," Harry said, staring grumpily down at the toes of his shoes. He didn't know why he was acting like this. He should have been thrilled at the prospect of leaving the Dursleys, even if it was with Snape.

"You most certainly are and you'll be taking supplements all summer if Professor Snape has anything to say about it," Madam Pomfrey said in a brisk tone, flicking her wand and creating a stack of parchment floating in mid-air. Snape snagged it without comment.

"Come along, Potter," Snape said, once Madam Pomfrey had given Harry a vial of pain reliever. The other scans must not have shown anything too egregious, Harry thought with relief, as he hopped off the bed and made his way to Snape's side. The Mediwitch kept casting concerned eyes his way when she thought he wasn't looking, but that was about it.

"For now, you are free to return to Gryffindor Tower," Snape told him, sounding rather formal. "I will speak with you in the morning. You may inform your friends of what has transpired this afternoon, but no one else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, nodding.

"Go on then," Snape ordered. Harry needed no further prompting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I'm glad that people are interested in/like this story so far. :) Also, hooray! A chapter from Snape's perspective!**

It wasn't until he had made his way into his quarters and shut the door, Potter's medical files still in hand, that the emotional fog lifted and Severus realised what exactly he'd just agreed to.

Not just agreed to. Demanded. _Insisted_.

His forehead fell against the polished wood of the door with a thunk.

He hated children. It wasn't exactly a secret. The entire faculty knew that he couldn't stand all the snotty-nosed, sticky-fingered, chattering imbeciles that populated the corridors and attempted, every single class period, to blow the Potions classroom sky high. (Longbottom was the worst he had seen in a while, but he was by no means the only one).

Now he was the _guardian_ of one.

Pinching his rather prominent nose between thumb and forefinger, Severus sighed, staggering away from the door to take an unsteady seat on the sofa. He needed to child-proof his quarters. He needed to fill out the guardianship papers, which had just arrived on the table with a discreet pop. He needed to come up with some semblance of rules for the behaviour of his new ward.

Why, of all people, did it have to be _Potter_?

When he'd heard the muted sobbing behind the curtain, he had assumed it was a Slytherin, truth be told. They were not in the dungeons, but out-of-the-way corridors and neglected alcoves were his students' forte. When it was Potter instead, he'd wanted to sneer at the child, provoke him into a fit of temper and perhaps even assign him a detention on the last day of school for the sheer pleasure of it-

Potter's eyes gave him pause.

They were Lily's eyes, but they were also swimming in tears and such abject misery, even Severus felt uncomfortable. Not to mention the impressive crack the back of the boy's head had made, connecting with the window glass.

Potter's pleas for his Potions professor to read his mind had been a shock.

What Severus found in said mind was even more so.

Neglect. Painful, punishing neglect. A life growing up stunted and scrawny in a cupboard. A cupboard jammed full of cleaning supplies, it was a miracle Potter hadn't ingested a few as a toddler and accomplished what the Dark Lord could not. Petunia Evans, now Dursley, just as sneering and horse-faced as he remembered. A hulking brute of a man, shoving Potter around and locking him into said cupboard. The cousin- a fat little bully of a boy, neatly growing up in his father's footsteps.

He had promised Albus, for Lily's sake, he would protect Potter. He had thought he could watch over the child from a distance. He had presumed the greatest threat to the boy's well-being would come from the Dark Lord and his fanatical followers.

Where Petunia was involved, he should have known better.

Summoning a cup of tea, Severus began to flip through Poppy's report. Potter was plainly malnourished. A few odd broken bones that never healed properly. While Severus doubted Petunia had broken Potter's bones herself (or let her whale of a husband do the deed), he also had no doubt she would have rather danced naked on the front lawn than taken the boy to get competent medical care. Let the freak fix himself, he could imagine her saying, with that haughty curl of upper lip.

If she'd bothered at all, Severus would bet a year's salary on her doing so grudgingly, resentfully- the bare minimum of medical treatment, and then Potter could manage the rest himself, couldn't he? From Poppy's diagnostics, it seemed that he _had_. Badly, no doubt. But magic had a way of protecting its owner, Severus thought ruefully.

Now that he was alone, he could also (unfortunately) acknowledge the squirming sensation of guilt souring in his chest. He'd let the public persona of the Boy Who Lived, not to mention his own scathing opinion of the child's parentage, taint his own perceptions. Potter might look like James, but he had his mother's eyes, and if Severus was painfully honest with himself, how fair could it be to heap the sins of the father upon the unwitting child? Potter probably didn't even _remember_ his parents, and Severus had been treating him abominably all year.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling. It was even more unpleasant to acknowledge that had Potter not chosen to show him the dreadful home life he feared returning to, Severus would never had had a qualm doing the same thing next year, and the year after that, and so forth and so on into perpetuity. Potter was reckless. Yet now Severus thought perhaps that came, not from the boy's pompous, puffed up grandiloquence, but from a lack of caring for his own well-being. Why should he, when none of the adults in his life had ever given a damn?

"I will," Severus said aloud. He felt odd, talking to himself like this. "Or- I'll try, anyway."

That sounded easier.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Back to Harry. (Apologies for the massive delay.)**

To say that he was surprised, as he wandered back to Gryffindor Tower, would be an understatement. Only an hour before, he had been desolate, attempting his best to mentally prepare for being thrust back into the cupboard under the stairs (or Dudley's second bedroom, which might as well be the cupboard)-

And now he was never going back. And Severus Snape was his guardian.

Ron was going to go ballistic.

Thankfully for Harry's jangling nerves, both Ron and Hermione were sitting in the common room. He was surprised they weren't outside, until he caught a snatch of what they were arguing about.

"-look for Harry-"

"Here I am," he piped up, with a half-hearted wave. Hermione looked up, cheeks flushed, before she was up and running, crashing straight into him.

"Thought something had happened-" was all he managed to understand, her voice muffled in the front of his robes.

"'m fine," he dismissed, hugging her awkwardly as Ron sauntered over.

"Where were you, mate?" Ron asked. Harry paled.

"Um, well, you see," he stalled for time, eyes flicking around the decently crowded common room. "Let's go outside, I've got to talk to you," he blurted out instead.

The trio found room beneath a very broad, leafy tree. Nobody else was around.

"So what is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, giving him a very encouraging smile. He looked down, picking a blade of grass and rolling it between his fingers.

"My relatives aren't the best, you know?" he said, hedging around the issue. "Er, well, I asked the Headmaster about staying here and he said no and I went off, I was a bit upset, you know-" (There was no way Harry was going to admit he'd been bawling his eyes out. Not even to his best friends.) "And Snape found me-"

"The git," Ron piped up immediately, scowling in the direction of the castle.

"Well maybe not, Ron, because er, he asked why I was upset," Harry continued, conveniently skimming past begging the Potions professor to perform Legilimency on him. "And er, well..."

"Yes?" Hermione coaxed.

"I'm not going back to the Dursleys," Harry said with a great gust of breath.

"That's great!" Ron exclaimed, clapping Harry on the back. Hermione nodded, smiling brightly.

"That's wonderful, Harry." Hermione beamed. "But where will you go instead?"

"You could come home with me, Mum wouldn't mind a bit," Ron interrupted. Harry's face flushed.

"Well, see, that's the thing, er- Snape volunteered to be my guardian," Harry said very fast. The reaction was immediate.

"Bloody hell, no, he hates you, Harry, what's he gonna do, chop you up into Potions ingredients and find You Know Who to give 'em to?"

"Ron, he wouldn't do that!" Hermione defended him. "But why did Professor Snape volunteer, Harry?"

"Search me if I know," Harry shrugged. "But he's got to be better than Uncle Vernon." He swallowed hard, looking out over the lake and very carefully avoiding looking Ron and Hermione in the eyes.

"If he's not, tell me and Mum will skin him alive," Ron said promptly.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. " _Do_ tell us, though, won't you, Harry? You can, can't you?"

"I guess," Harry said. "I mean, he said I couldn't tell anyone but you two, but I don't see why I wouldn't be allowed to talk to you..."

"Good," Hermione said, looking rather fierce. Harry couldn't help but smile, if only a little.

"I've got to finish packing," Harry said after a while, clambering to his feet. "I'm a bit behind, er, considering."

"Understandable," Hermione said, linking arms with him and Ron. Her hair was very bushy. "Are you staying in the castle, do you think? Oh, that'd be _brilliant_ if you are, do you think you could use the library for all your summer work?"

"Uh-" Harry paused, conveniently ignoring the bit about homework. "I don't actually know," he confessed. "I guess? Does Snape even _live_ somewhere else?"

"Probably," Ron said after a moment's consideration. "Most of the teachers do."

"Well, I'll see anyway," Harry said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. It remained stubbornly untidy.

"Oh no, Harry," Ron said in such profound dismay that Harry stopped still in his tracks, jerking Hermione to a halt, too.

"What? What is it?" He demanded.

"You're gonna be living with a _professor_ , he'll make you do your homework faster than _Hermione_."

Harry snickered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: More apologies for another massive delay.**

He was down as soon as instructed, heart sinking into Hermione-mended shoes when he realised he hadn't the foggiest where the professor's office was, and the note (delivered last night by the haughtiest owl Harry had ever seen) hadn't specified.

Luckily, the halls were nearly deserted (who would want to get up this early today?) and Snape seemed to have the same realisation about Harry's lack of knowledge because shortly thereafter, he appeared, robes billowing around him, and gestured irritably for Harry to follow. Lugging with him nearly every possession he cared about, Harry did.

Snape locked the door and silenced the room with a few tricky flicks of his wand Harry wished he could memorise and gestured for Harry to take a seat. On a rather comfortable chair, no less, rather than the wooden one Harry knew he kept for miscreants.

"I appreciate your promptness," Snape said, as soon as Harry had sat down. To Harry's displeasure, his feet didn't touch the ground. "Now, I presume you have told Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger and _no one else_ about our- arrangement?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. His fingers twisted together in his lap. Snape looked a bit like he'd sucked a lemon, but he wasn't throwing Harry out and Uncle Vernon hadn't popped out from behind the desk yet, so perhaps it wasn't all some kind of cruel trick.

"Good," Snape said, nodding. "Now- today. You will take the Hogwarts Express back to King's Cross-"

"What?" Harry interrupted in dismay, nearly leaping up from his chair. His heart felt like it wanted to rip out of his chest. So it _was_ all a trick, it was all a _lie_ , why else would he be expected to take the train, there was no _need_ \- "But you _promised_ -"

"Sit _down_ ," Snape said sharply, and only when he said that did Harry realise he'd jumped up anyway, poised for flight at any moment. "I know what I promised. You are not returning to Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and I meant what I said. Do you not remember me saying yesterday in the Headmaster's office that you would be allowed to take the train in order to say goodbye to your friends?"

"...Oh." Harry flushed brilliant scarlet to the tips of his ears and slumped back in his chair, feeling the worst kind of idiot ever created. "I- I'm sorry."

"You are distraught," Snape said. It was the gentlest Harry had ever heard his Potions professor speak, and his eyes darted to the man, who now looked like he was attempting to be soothing. "It is understandable. Now, as I said. You will remain _on_ the train. Do not disembark. I will be one of the chaperons on the train and we will simply take it back to the castle. It is at this point we will go over the rules you will be expected to keep going forward."

Rules? Harry chewed anxiously on his bottom lip. He knew rules were pretty normal for kids. Like no running in the street, there might be cars coming, or you have to brush your teeth before you go to bed. Ron said his brothers got in trouble for turning his teddy bear into a giant spider, which er- was a wizard kid kind of rule, Harry guessed.

But Snape was also the professor who'd taken points for Harry breathing too loudly or stirring the wrong way because he wasn't exactly sure what counter-clockwise meant and if he asked Hermione, Snape would have taken points off for that, too. And those were an awful lot like freak rules and those were-

Well, those were the rules that Harry was trying to escape this summer.

Some of the turmoil must have shown on his face because all of a sudden, his chair was being gently pushed back with a soft wave of magic and Snape was crouched in front of him, but not too close.

"Potter? Are you all right?" He asked. His voice was even _gentler_ and Harry didn't understand why his eyes were stinging and the vision of his professor-turned-guardian kept doubling until a handkerchief was pressed into his hand.

"Yes, sir," Harry stammered, wiping his face. Professor Snape looked like he didn't really believe him, but wasn't going to argue the point.

"It's time for you to go to breakfast," Snape changed the subject as he got to his feet. "Leave your things here. I'll show you a different way up to the Great Hall so no one sees you."

"Thank you," Harry muttered gratefully. He tried to give the man his handkerchief back, but Snape shook his head, telling him to keep it. A sudden thought struck him.

"Will- will I be able to see my friends this summer?" He asked, afraid of the answer. Snape looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Of course," he said. Harry grinned.

"Thank you, sir," he said, and pelted off to breakfast.


	7. Chapter 7

The train ride simultaneously took an eternity and no time at all. Harry could feel his heart beating in his throat the entire time, even as he played Exploding Snap with Ron. Hermione curled up with an enormous book in her lap.

"It'll be all right, you know," she spoke up suddenly, closing her book with a decisive thump. Harry exchanged a confused look with Ron, pretending that his hands didn't want to shake.

"I know," he said.

"We can visit," she continued, as he'd informed them both covertly at breakfast what his guardian (as they'd decided it would be best to refer to Snape in public) had said. "And write. You _will_ write, won't you?"

"Yeah," Harry said and studied his shoes. "It'll be fine."

"It will," Hermione said, nodding her head. Her bushy hair exploded around her in a thick, frizzy cloud as she opened her book again and buried her nose in it. Harry looked at Ron again, who seemed just as baffled, and they returned to their game until the train pulled into the station.

"See you soon, mate," Ron said awkwardly, pulling Harry into a one-armed hug.

"I'll write to you as soon as I can," Hermione told him in an earnest, slightly teary voice, squeezing him so tight, he almost lost his breath.

When he looked up again, Snape stood there in the door of the compartment, mouth drawn in a thin line that wasn't quite a sneer.

"Come with me, Mr. Potter," he said. Heart trebling in beat, Harry did.

Harry was quite sure he'd never seen the compartment that Professor Snape guided him into. Then again, if it was the professors' compartment, perhaps that was why. They were the only ones there, and he looked up at the man with wide, anxious eyes.

"I asked for a bit of privacy," his new guardian explained. He looked uncomfortable. "I thought that you might appreciate it."

Harry nodded.

"Thank- thank you, sir," he added on, sure that Snape would prefer a verbal response.

"Would you prefer to go over the rules you will be expected to follow now or at Hogwarts?" Professor Snape asked.

"Hogwarts, please," Harry said immediately. The longer he could put that off, the better. Snape arched one eyebrow, but said nothing about his decision. It must have been okay, right? Unless it was a trick? But Snape didn't _do_ tricks like Uncle Vernon...

"You can relax, Potter," Snape said. He sounded irritable, but not more than usual. "I'm not about to open the window and throw you on the tracks. The Headmaster would be very vexed with me if I did."

Harry smiled before he could stop himself.

"What classes would you say you struggled with the most this year?" Snape asked some time later. They had sat in relatively companionable silence after Snape had given Harry a somewhat entertaining book. It was about Potions (naturally) but it wasn't a textbook per se, it was about someone's field experiments and how they kept going awry. Harry thought that if they had more stuff to read like _this_ in class, maybe he'd actually pay attention, instead of waiting for Neville's potion to explode or Snape to take off points for looking too Gryffindor.

"...Potions," Harry admitted in a small voice, chewing on his bottom lip. "And er- History of Magic. It's just that Binns is er-"

"A ghost who likes to drone," Snape finished dryly. Harry chewed his lip even harder so he didn't laugh. "Po- Harry."

Harry looked up. Snape looked extremely uncomfortable and one of his eyelids kept twitching.

"Y-yes, sir?" Harry asked.

"I must apologise for my behaviour toward you this past school year," his Potions professor said stiffly. Harry's mouth dropped open. "Your father- we did not get along. I should not have taken it out on you."

"It's alright," Harry said, because he didn't know what else to say.

"It is not," Snape contradicted. Harry looked down at his lap, twisting his fingers together. If someone had told him last week that Snape would be sitting here with him, _apologising_ to him for treating him like rat spleen all year, he would have thought that person had been hexed. Or was playing some kind of trick on him. It didn't seem real. Then again, did any of it? He was still on the train, still going _back_ to Hogwarts.

The train whistle blew, startling him.

"We're here," Snape said. Harry swallowed.


	8. Chapter 8

Severus guided his new charge up the path toward the castle and wondered when exactly he'd become so- He couldn't even articulate the words to himself. Minerva had cornered him after breakfast, a sharp look in her eyes as she brought up his poor treatment of Potter over the past school year. He'd had no defense to muster up, no words that could make the way he'd treated an eleven-year-old sound better. James had always given as good as he got, had oftentimes been the instigator-

But Harry wasn't James. It left a sour taste in his mouth to admit to the boy that he had been wrong, but he had. Minerva was right, but he'd already known that. He'd taken out the sins of the father on the child, when Potter didn't even _know_ his father. He had no excuse.

"Serpentine," he spoke to the portrait that hid the entrance to his rooms. Salazar Slytherin looked up, eyebrows arched as high as they could go when he saw Severus's companion, but the painting slid aside without comment, and he introduced Harry to the wards.

"Place your dominant hand on the wall," he instructed. Looking confused, Potter did as he was told, yelping at the sting that ran through his fingers. "That's normal," Severus said, hiding his amusement. "Now you'll be able to come and go without me needing to be with you. I'll tell you when the password changes."

"Thank you, sir," Potter mumbled. The lack of spirit in him was disconcerting. Where was the attitude that had always reared its ugly head in class? Or had that too been a product of Severus's prejudices? He wasn't sure, and that bothered him.

He wondered what his quarters looked like through Potter's eyes. They weren't large- he'd never had a need for that. They were comfortable, decorated proudly in green, although he had foregone the silver and went for brown and cream to complement. In his living room, one wall was dedicated to ceiling-to-floor bookshelves. He'd spent nearly an hour last night Potter-proofing them.

"This way," Severus said, leading the way down the small hallway. "My bedroom, your bedroom, and the bathroom."

"My bedroom?" Potter spoke up, eyes wide.

"Of course, Potter, did you think I'd have you sleeping on the floor?" Severus said acerbically before realising that perhaps Potter had subconsciously expected precisely that. The boy's shoulders had hunched and he was staring quite resolutely at his shoes.

"Your room," Severus confirmed, gentling his tone the best he could. "It isn't very big compared to the dormitory, I'm sure-"

"It's brilliant!" Potter interrupted when he finally took a peek inside. "Er, sorry," he mumbled. His face was bright red.

"You may decorate as you like, within reason," Severus went on, as if the boy hadn't spoken. "If you would like the wallpaper changed, for instance, I can do that now."

"Er, yes please? Red and- and gold?" Potter looked up hopefully.

Severus flicked his wand and the sedate grey and blue changed to garish Gryffindor. He inwardly cringed.

"Thank you, sir," Potter gushed. A slight smile tugged at his mouth. Perhaps he could grow accustomed to it. As long as Potter kept the door shut at all times and it never saw the light of day, that was.

"Your things have already been stored in your room and your owl should know your new accommodations," Severus said. "She is welcome to stay in the Owlery with the other Hogwarts owls, or you may take care of her in your room, as long as you let her out regularly."

"I can- I can have her in my room?" Potter asked. He sounded shocked.

"Of course," Severus said shortly. "She's your pet, is she not? During the school year, she must stay in the Owlery with the other owls, but during the summer months, you are free to choose."

"My room, please," Potter said, eyes shining.

"Then it is settled," Severus said. He showed the boy around the rest of his accommodations, primarily the kitchen area and his study. His private lab was connected to his rooms, but he warned Potter never to go in there. If he had need, he could knock; the laboratory was charmed to magically alert him, so it didn't matter how absorbed he was or how quiet the knock.

"Now, about the rules I expect you to follow," Severus said, once they had returned to the living room and he'd encouraged Potter to settle on the sofa. The boy instantly tensed, and Severus wondered if Potter was going to have a panic attack like he had this morning. He hoped not.

"Y-yes, sir?" Potter said. His hands looked like they were shaking.

"I must warn you again that you are _never_ to go into my laboratory, whether or not I am in there," he said. He knew his tone was harsh, but for this, he didn't care. It was vital the boy understood. "I work on many volatile potions and if you were to disturb them, the results could be catastrophic- for you _and_ the potion. When I tutor you in Potions this summer, we will more than likely use one of the student classrooms."

Potter's eyes were huge, but he nodded.

"That is the most important rule you must follow in my quarters," Severus said, relaxing slightly. "You will complete your summer homework to my satisfaction, and not at the end of break. If you need assistance, you may ask, but I will not hand the answers to you. You will listen and do as you are told. I do not tell you to do things simply to hear myself speak. You may ask for clarification or my reasoning, however. You will clean up after yourself and your owl, and you will keep your room tidy. There are house elves assigned to my rooms, but I do not expect them to be forced to clean up after a messy eleven-year-old boy."

"Er- house elves, sir?" Potter asked. Severus paused. He had forgotten that Potter was Muggle-raised for a moment. The house elves preferred not to be seen by the students, as well.

"I will show you momentarily," he settled on saying. "They are a particular kind of magical creature and are very helpful to witches and wizards. Hogwarts houses a great deal of them."

"Oh," Potter said.

"You will eat breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner at the proper times," Severus continued. "You may have snacks in between, but only in moderation. And no gorging yourself on sweets. It will only rot your teeth." He fixed the boy with a stern look, then paused, unsure what to make of Potter's expression. He almost looked shocked. What could be so surprising in Severus's statement that... Then he remembered. Of course. Proper mealtimes _would_ be a shock to the boy's system.

"You will take a nutrition supplement every morning with breakfast," he said, willing the memories of the Dursleys' appalling treatment out of his head. "Contrary to what your expression leads me to believe, it does not taste bad. It's rather minty actually."

"Sorry, sir," Potter said, shifting his position and looking uncomfortable.

"I presume you would like to fly this summer," Severus said. Potter nodded hesitantly. "You are allowed, but only if there is an adult present to watch you. You may ask me, or any of the teachers present."

"Sir?" Potter asked.

"Yes?" Severus said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was certain that he had already missed twenty guidelines he would have to impose on the boy for fear of him breaking half his bones and ending up in St. Mungo's for the rest of the summer.

"Er- do you just live here?" Potter asked. His face had gone very red.

"I have a summer home separate from Hogwarts, but I generally prefer to spend my summers in the castle," Severus said carefully. "Is that a problem for you?"

"Oh, no," Potter said, shaking his head so hard his fringe went flying and Severus could see the lightning bolt scar etched across his forehead. "I just wondered because me and Ron were talking about it yesterday and he said most professors don't live here and Hermione said if I stayed here, maybe I could use the library for my homework-" He scrunched his nose and Severus had to fight the urge to laugh.

"You are allowed to use the library for your summer work, yes," he said. "Although again, I would prefer that you allow me to accompany you. The castle is no place for you to roam about, unsupervised."

"Why?" Potter asked, looking confused, but Severus shook his head, indicating the subject was closed for the moment.

"I expect lights out by ten," Severus said. "That's more than enough time for you to be in bed. There will be no nighttime wanderings while you live in my quarters, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Potter grumbled. There was some of the spirit he'd expected.

"Recite the rules back to me," Severus said.

"Er- don't go in your lab ever, keep my room clean, eat at meals, don't leave or go flying without someone there, I have to do all my homework, and lights out at ten?" Potter rushed through quickly.

"Good," Severus said. "Sometime this week, I intend on taking you to the optometrist in Hogsmeade. The way you squint is atrocious. When was the last time you had your prescription renewed?"

Harry blinked at him, looking utterly befuddled.

"Prescription?" He asked.

"For your _eyeglasses_ ," Severus specified.

"Er- Aunt Petunia just got them out of the bin," Potter mumbled, staring down into his lap. There was a pregnant pause before Severus shifted in his chair.

"Well, all the more reason to get you new glasses as soon as possible then," he said.

The smile on Potter's face was blinding.


End file.
